When life slips you a Jeffrey, stroke the furry walls

Long Story Short

I find myself perpetually fascinated by the decisions we make on a minute by minute basis and the ways in which those choices affect the outcome of our lives, at least in the short term. A vast majority of those decisions yield the desired, non-adverse result but every so often, even the most innocent and innocuous choices have immediate and severe consequences.

Such was the case last Monday when I stubbornly insisted on eating lunch at the Chili’s restaurant in Menlo Park. Because we were running late and were pressed for time, Fehmeen gave me several reasonable dining alternatives, all of which were summarily dismissed by me.

I should have recognized the early warning signs of my impending personal apocalypse when our lunch was interrupted by the creamed corn colored vomit being spewed from the mouth of the four year old boy in the booth directly across from us. Fehmeen and I exited the restaurant leaving more food on our plates than we had eaten, already running late for our acupuncture appointments.

Once my session had ended, I began the lengthy process of swallowing my pills and supplements as I waited for Fehmeen to complete her treatment. I probably took about three dozen pills during that half hour before we hit the road to make my 4 PM appointment at Kaiser in Santa Clara.

Fehmeen pulled the car over into a non-descript parking lot when it became readily apparent that my nausea was escalating quickly to the point of something much more dire. The decision to call 911 was made all that much easier when I began to sweat profusely, double over in pain, and nearly lose consciousness.

By the time the paramedics arrived, the worst of it had already passed. We opted to drive ourselves to the Kaiser ER to get me checked out, and five short hours later, were back home eating grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner at 10 PM.

Long story short: I am fine except for the ALS . And always listen to your wife (she told me say that).